


Daddy's Here

by Moons_of_Avalon



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Domestic Fluff, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, HYDRA Trash Party, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:32:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5112974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moons_of_Avalon/pseuds/Moons_of_Avalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The asset was placed under Brock Rumlow's care for reconditioning, but after living together for months, their relationship has gone far beyond that of a commander and his obedient soldier.</p><p>or...</p><p>I'm a slut for daddykink!WinterBones, enjoy the fruits of my depravity.</p><p>Based on the AU Hydra Trash Party blog: daddyrumlow.tumblr.com</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daddy's Here

Brock knows it’s not yet morning without even opening his eyes. He can just tell, can feel the leftover fatigue in his body from being woken up after less than a full night’s sleep. But the asset is squirming insistently against his side, heavy and warm, and Brock sighs when he feels the other man’s nose bumping against his neck, trying to burrow closer.

“Alright, alright, I’m awake,” he groans, sneaking one eye open to glance at the clock on the nightstand. “Kid, it’s barely three…you need something?” Normally the asset’s pretty good about not waking him up, especially not this early, unless there’s some kind of emergency.

But right now, the only answer he gets is a mumbled apology, one that he feels more than he hears as the asset’s lips bump against his shoulder before pulling back. Brock rolls his eyes. 

“C’mere, you’re not in trouble,” he murmurs, sliding his arm underneath the asset’s solid body and tugging him closer again. The soldier’s metal arm rests against his chest and the temperature difference raises a chill on his skin. “I just need a couple more hours, ok?”

The asset’s long hair tickles his neck as the man nods, but he shifts uncomfortably again, and in the dim light peering through the window blinds, Brock can see that his head’s ducked down. Something’s not right.

“Hey, look at me,” he orders, and obediently the asset’s head tips up, though his eyes take a little longer to wander up and meet his handler’s, glinting in the darkness. There’s so much light and feeling in his eyes these days, it’s amazing that Brock could have ever seen them as blank and lifeless. “You have to tell me if you need something or if something’s wrong.”

“I know, daddy,” the asset nods again, prompt but shy, and he’s got his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Brock sighs, imagining the soft flesh getting pinker and fuller as the asset worries it, and briefly considers stopping him with a kiss. That line of thought halts, however, when the body next to him shifts, and he gets his explanation in the form of the asset’s fully hard cock pressed right up against his thigh.

Oh.

He feels the asset’s cheek heat up where it’s pressed against his bare chest and chuckles lightly. “So that’s the problem,” he sighs, his hand drifting up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind the asset’s ear. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“It’s early and you need sleep…” is the asset’s quick, if slightly uncertain reply. 

“Well you’re a good boy for trying to respect that,” Brock smiles, making the man in his arms blush again. Praise kink, never fails. “But this is the sort of thing I can wake up for every now and then.” 

With one arm still tucked around the asset’s body, he pushes himself up, rolling them so the asset’s on his back underneath him. Strong thighs spread easily for him so he can slot their bodies together, and the asset moans breathily at the new pressure against his cock. The angle of light is better this way, and Brock can see just how flushed the poor kid actually is, pink creeping up his cheeks and down his neck to stain the delicate skin just under his collarbone. All pent up like this, it wouldn’t take long at all to get him off.

Brock smiles as he leans down and nips lightly at the asset’s throat, breathing in the faint smell of sex that’s still clinging to his skin from earlier that night, barely four hours ago, when he’d had the asset on top of him, bouncing eagerly on his cock. Brock hums at the image his mind provides…kid’s probably still wet with lube.

“Daddy…” the asset’s soft, almost pitiful voice brings Brock focus back to the present, and he has to smile as he rocks his hips and drags a moan out of the man. 

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, pulling out the nickname he saves for the bedroom (or couch, or shower, wherever they end up). As always, the asset blushes, whining softly as he wriggles underneath Brock. “Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

He pulls back, chuckling at the way the asset reaches for him, and hooks his fingers inside the kid’s briefs, tugging them down slowly before tossing them off the bed. When he looks down at the other man again, he’s surprised by the little smile that’s crept onto the kid’s face. Pleased, cheeky even. The face of someone who’s getting exactly what they want. Brock can’t resist leaning down to kiss that little smile, drinking in the giggle that slips out of the asset as he tries to kiss back. Cheeky, that’s definitely the word for it.

Reaching to grab the lube from the nightstand, Brock pours some out onto his fingers before wrapping his hand around the asset’s cock and starting to stroke him slowly. Instantly, that cheeky smile is gone, replaced by a sweet little pout as the asset’s back bows up off the bed with a gasp and his hands reach out for Brock again. He gives in, leaning down so the asset can grab hold of him as he peppers kisses along his jawline. He’ll never get over that reaction, how responsive the asset is to being touched. “Feels good, huh?”

“Yeah…” the asset moans and Brock chuckles again, nipping the asset’s collarbone and smirking when the kid squeaks in surprise. 

“This all you needed, baby?” The asset’s not always good about saying exactly what he wants in the bedroom. It also may be just the tiniest bit of payback for the kid being coy and thinking he was going to get off easy (pun intended).No surprise, the asset hesitates before replying.

“I want you, daddy…” Sweet, but not enough.

“You’ve got me, kid, I’m not going anywhere,” Brock teases, brushing his thumb slowly over the tip of the asset’s cock and watching as he shudders.

“No, I want _you._ ” He’s frustrated now, his eyes begging to be understood while his hands fidget with the waistband of Brock’s sweats, insistent.

“Want me to what?” The asset’s pout returns full force. Kid probably thinks he’s being intimidating, but it’s adorable as all hell. 

“Want you to fuck me, daddy.”

Brock groans softly, pressing a kiss to the asset’s forehead.“That’s my good boy,” he murmurs, trailing his hand down the asset’s cock towards his entrance. “All you had to do was ask.”

Whether the asset’s nodding to say he understood, or just to encourage Brock’s wandering fingers, he can’t really be sure, but as soon as he presses two slowly inside the soldier’s warm, willing body, nothing else really matters. The asset cries out, gasping for breath like he’s been sprinting as Brock’s fingers work in and out of him. Brock’s careful about it, deliberately avoiding the asset’s prostate as he opens him up. The kid’ll be embarrassed if he comes too fast, but he’s so worked up right now that anything could send him over the edge.

“Easy,” he urges, resting his free hand against the asset’s stomach, pressing down lightly. Firm abs flex hard against his palm in defiance, but the asset does relax back down on the bed and his squirming quiets. But if he’s not allowed to react with his body, it seems he’ll make due with his voice, which raises now to a steady stream of moans pouring out from the perfect pink ‘o’ of his lips, sweet as anything.

“Daddy, please…” he whimpers, and Brock groans under his breath, his hand tenses against the asset’s stomach. What can he say? He’s weak for the begging, for the daddy thing.

“I know, baby, be patient.”

The asset’s whines are almost petulant now, his lips pulled into a funny little frown like he could burst into tears at any moment. His eyes never leave Brock’s face though; big, stormy eyes that are louder than the kid’s voice could ever be. They’re just about screaming now, wide and misty and relentlessly fixed on Brock like he’s the goddamn second coming. Brock placates him with a kiss that the asset willingly parts his lips for, meeting Brock’s tongue with his own when his handler licks inside. Brock’s fingers, three of them now, are moving easily inside of him, and when those fingers curl to press against his prostate, his whole body jolts with a little cry that’s nearly lost on Brock’s tongue. He’s more than ready.

The sound the asset makes when Brock has to pull back to grab a condom is heartbreaking, really. Tearing out of his chest and high in the back of his throat, like he thinks Brock’s going to leave him wanting.

“I’m right here,” Brock reassures, his hand sliding up the asset’s body, soothing him quiet, until his fingertips are brushing the man’s lips. He has to hold in a shudder as the asset’s tongue slips out to brush against his skin, just before he tips his head up to suck Brock’s fingers into his mouth, hot, wet, and oh-so-eager.

“Christ, baby…” Brock mutters, getting the condom on as easily as he can one handed, because he’s not about to stop the show the asset is putting on: sucking and licking his fingers, eyes closed in bliss. Brock only pulls his hand away when he can replace it with his tongue, which the asset sucks in just as readily, sliding his arms around Brock and tugging him closer. “I know, I know you want it,” Brock murmurs, smirking as the asset nods desperately.

“Please, daddy,” he whispers, and Brock doesn’t need any more encouraging, rocking forward to press slowly into the soldier’s soft, open body. Instantly, the kid’s got his head thrown back, crying out, and Brock doesn’t waste to opportunity to cover that perfectly bared throat with open-mouthed kisses, as he rolls his hips slowly, deep inside the willing body beneath his.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, playing kisses along the asset’s jaw, and pulling back just enough so he can see those pretty eyes when they turn to him again. Half-closed and glistening now more than ever, the pale greys are a sight to see framed by dark lashes and set against flushed pink skin. “My gorgeous baby boy, aren’t you?”

“Yours, daddy…” the assets whimpers, before his eyes squeeze shut and he squeals as Brock thrusts against his prostate. Brock can’t help but laugh, pleased with himself, as he pulls cry after needy, howling cry from the soldier with each thrust, until he feels blunt nails scraping at his chest and hears metal plates shifting, mixed signals from the asset’s fucked out mind setting them whirring furiously. Thank fuck for thick walls, and for the fact that the other agents are intimidated by him, or he’d have a hell of a time explaining how he found out the asset’s a screamer.

 When he feels the kid’s body start to tremble, hips jerking with desperate lack of rhythm, he eases up, holds back, keeping his baby from tipping over the edge he’d been oh so close to. The asset is less than thrilled, choking on a sob and digging his nails into Brock’s shoulder.

“Daddy!” A long, painful whine drags out of him as he thrashes and tries to push down on Brock’s length, though he’s thwarted by a firm hand on his hip holding him in place. He’s gone now, eyes unfocused, hands lost for what to reach for, flying between the bed frame and the sheets and his lover’s skin. “Please,” he begs, voice breaking into another needy sob. “Please please please…”

“Please, what?” Brock murmurs, rocking in deep again so the asset’s answer is delayed by a moan he can’t fight. It’s too easy to play the kid when he gets like this. Maybe Brock shouldn’t take advantage, but maybe he’s just not that good a guy.

“Please let me come, daddy,” the asset whimpers, breathless. His flesh hand’s in his hair now, jerking the long strands until Brock tangles their fingers together and stops him. The touch seems to ground him and his eyes focus in on Brock’s face again.“I want to come for you…please…” This kid is too much for him, honestly. There’s no saying ‘no’ to that.

“Anything you want, baby,” he murmurs. Wrapping both arms around the kid’s waist, he pulls up so the asset’s in his lap and he’s on his knees. Instantly, the asset clings to him, arms locked around his neck. When Brock start’s thrusting again, deep and hard, the asset matches his pace, pressing down so the sound of their skin slapping together mixes with the cries that turn to squeals that turn to shouts as the asset gets closer and closer to his release. He’s begging again, Brock can just tell, even if the words are lost among his sounds of pleasure as he buries his face into Brock’s throat.

The lightest touch of Brock’s hand to his cock and the asset’s coming, going taut as his face screws up into a silent yell before his whole body arches, toes curling, head thrown back, as a cry tears out of him. Brock knows he’ll still have scratches tomorrow from how the asset’s nails drag against his skin, but he doesn’t care, he’s too lost in his boy’s body: holding him, fucking into him, kissing and biting every inch he can before his own orgasm hits him and he groans deep and rough against the asset’s skin.

The soldier’s shaky by the time Brock stops moving inside him, still whimpering softly as the last aftershocks move through him. Aside from that, they’re both quiet and still, and Brock lets his eyes close as the asset leans heavy against him, laying kisses across the junction where smooth metal meets scarred skin. Finally, the asset yawns, shaking his head slightly, and he nuzzles closer. Brock has to laugh slightly in response.

“All tired out and ready to go back to sleep?” he purrs, carefully laying the kid back down. The asset nods slightly and rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, letting out a soft, almost disappointed sound as Brock pulls out of him and gets rid of the used condom. Brock just rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss the asset’s forehead, then his nose, just so he can watch it wrinkle as the asset giggles. “Go to sleep,” he mutters as he lays down next to the soldier, who’s curled up to him and asleep in seconds. Just like a kitten. Though, after sex like that, Brock can hardly blame him, and he isn’t far behind.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at moonsofavalon.tumblr.com!


End file.
